


The Path We Choose

by BladeSorcery



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Twins, F/M, Garrett is a year younger, M/M, Mage Hawke (Dragon Age), Marian is the oldest, except not really
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,112
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24914077
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BladeSorcery/pseuds/BladeSorcery
Summary: Marian and Garrett are both mages. Bethany died years ago, even before father did. Carver was lost to the ogre. Now, a year later, Marian and Garrett have completed their contract with Athenril and they must turn their attention to a longer term solution for their family's safety. While they share blood and magical talent, that's just about where the similarities end for these two. Marian fears her magic and strives to hide it, while Garrett flaunts it. These two will make very different allies, and maybe even end up on opposite sides of history.
Relationships: Anders/Male Hawke, Fenris/Female Hawke
Kudos: 6





	The Path We Choose

Fenris watched from above as the three mercenaries below dispatched the slavers. The sheer numbers that the slavers had over this band of lowtown hirelings would have easily overwhelmed most others, but here they were dispatching wave upon wave with ease. Fenris, to that end, was surprisingly pleased with Anso's arrangements after all. When he had given his job to the dwarf, he'd expected a handful of drunkards stumbling their way through the house, getting slaughtered after perhaps bloodying the first wave of Tevinter troupes.

The dwarf, while quite short, had no problem nailing his human opponents with crossbow bolts directly between the eyes. Every. Single. Time. Meanwhile, the woman in the local guard regalia masterfully used her shield to force her enemies into awkward positions, before spinning around to introduce them to her blade. This was not unexpected, as the guard here were exceptionally well trained. Though he had no idea how Anso had managed to secure the help of one. Fenris's gaze then flitted over to the last mercenary. She was... well odd to say the least. She wore a heavy chain tunic with a sturdy pauldron and plenty of layers of quilted padding. Meanwhile, she wielded a glaive. The disconnect between her weapon and armor was quite astonishing. A reach weapon such as a glaive required mobility and agility, which her armor actively inhibited. Yet, her she was managing to fend off her fair share of slavers with this unorthodox combination. The raven haired woman was quite obviously uncomfortable, sporting a weak stance and backing towards a corner of the alienage where her enemies couldn't flank her. She would take rather dexterous spinning strikes at them as she could. Despite her disadvantages, she seemed to have a knack for exploiting their weaknesses. A slaver that slowed down to her would quickly have his helmet knocked off and his throat slit. Another that came too quickly lost balance and she pierced his heart.

Fenris decided that it was time he rendered aid. He moved into the next alleyway where he had known the slavers to be preparing their reinforcements, should they be needed. From above, he set his lyrium markings ablaze and lept from the roof with sword in hand. The massive blade slipped between the collarbone of the captain and into his ribs. Fenris twisted the blade and a loud and wet crack echoed through the narrow alley as his blade broke free of the captains flesh. Even beneath their helmets, Fenris could see the look of horror upon the half dozen mens' faces. He loved that look. They scrambled, the most senior of their rank barely managing to call out "Get him!". Fenris became a whirl of blade, lyrium, and blood, and it wasn't before long that he had his fist deep within that senior slaver's chest and closing around his heart. He looked around him at the bodies, satisfied with his work.

Within seconds, he heard a different officer calling for reinforcements. It seems the mercenaries managed to finish off the others. So, he rounded the corner and made his way down the stairs to the alienage. His pace was steady and calm- there was, after all, no way this last piece of scum would escape the four of them. "Your men are dead." He announced firmly, "Your trap has failed, I suggest running back to your master while you can". Fenris pushed past the slaver, he knew the man wouldn't take his advice, they never did. Tevinters were too proud to admit defeat.

Surely enough, the man made to grab his shoulder, aggressively yelling in Fenris's ear: "You're going nowhere, slave!"

Fenris dispatched the man as he had countless others. They never learned. Sometimes he would let the weakest among them go, in hopes that they would spread stories of the horrors he inflicted upon their kind. That, perhaps, would give others pause. Too proud, he reminded himself. He always had to kill them in the end. He looked at the fresh corpse, "I am not a slave" he told it. It took a few moments before Fenris remembered he was being watched and turned to the mercenaries. He... had explaining to do. It wouldn't do him any good to scare off the first competent help he had found, but oh how he hated explaining. He put on composure fit for a magister, and addressed them. "I apologize" he led with awkwardly, "When I asked Anso to provide a distraction for the hunters, I had no idea they would be so... numerous." He gestured around awkwardly to the dozens of corpses the lined the grounds of the alienage. One was notably pinned to the ornate tree in the center with a crossbow bolt.

Much to his surprise, the raven haired woman replied. "You were responsible for this?"

"I am the reason you are here, yes." He responded. Fenris then allowed the explanation to tumble out of his mouth, pushing down the disgust currently swimming in his stomach. He hated being pitied. Yet, the woman was unfazed, calmly asking questions and evaluating the situation; so she was their leader, Fenris reasoned.

She looked at him firmly in the eye "You didn't need to lie to me to get my help." She was calm and collected, but the resolve and honesty he saw in her eyes was almost startling to him.

"That remains to be seen." He replied, having had too much experience with backstabbers. He leaned down and snatched a piece of paper from the slaver's belt. There upon it was a wax seal with Danarius's family coat of arms upon it. He opened the letter, the words upon the page were meaningless to him, but he could still smell the ink. It was still ever so slightly wet and at the bottom was unmistakably his signature. This letter was written mere hours before the ambush.

"It's as I thought, my former Master accompanied them to the city." He paused and shifted his gaze, returning the firm look to the raven haired woman, "I know you have questions, but I must confront him before he flees." Then came the awkward part, "I will... need your help."

A wry smile twisted onto her face and her brows knitted up in amusement "If it means killing more slavers, then it seems like a fun time to me."

Within the last thirty minutes, this woman has surprised him several times, and she just did it again. Not only was she willing to help him, asking nothing in return, but she seemed as delighted about the prospect of slaver corpses and he did. This would be a long... and interesting night.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually write fanfiction but this idea has been bothering me for days. Its a bit overly convoluted, especially compared to most Twin Hawke AUs, so thank you for bearing with me. The things I do in earlier chapters have an explicit reason for the story moving forward, I swear! 
> 
> And remember, if all else fails, "A demon made me do it!"


End file.
